Yesterday, too many things happened at Yom Kippur services to adequately sum up. The day was stimulating in many ways: the music was absolutely glorious, and I helped to make it, being in the choir. The fabulous pianist, drummer, saxophonist, and violinists gave traditional prayers a rhumba or reggae beat, threw in humorous little musical comments and quotations, and generally made us all alternately swoon and smile. We in the choir responded by singing out more strongly than ever, but gave each song its proper dynamics. Somehow, we really did much better than ever before, I think.
The discussion groups were all really interested, and I finally decided to make myself write in a writing practice group based on Writing Down The Bones' method. It was fun and eye-opening since people I knew for years were in the group. I didn't get to read mine outloud, but it was nonetheless useful and interesting. The sermon was particularly good the night before because it related to how people think about their children and how it is often unfair to expect them to live up to expectations in that way. That one rang a bell for me.
Yesterday we also heard a version of "Blowin in the Wind" translated into English, which Peter Yarrow, a friend of our rabbi's and congregation's, will soon record. I suppose we will be singing these familiar songs in Hebrew soon too, since he gave permission for us to do that.
Altogether, an outstanding day of fasting and thought, topped off by eating a giant bowl of Japanese noodles with Richard and a fabulous ramen place in Diamond Jamboree.